


SAM Squared: Origins

by themoonowl



Series: A Real Hero [22]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Birthday Cake, Birthday Party, Colonist (Mass Effect), Fluff, Gen, James Vega Bakes A Cake, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Mass Effect 3, Mindoir, Nerdiness, SAM Squared, Samed Is A Boy Scout, building model ships is, mlm/wlw solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22257334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonowl/pseuds/themoonowl
Summary: Samed is feeling a bit tense after Palaven. Maybe assembling model ships would help?
Relationships: EDI & Male Shepard (Mass Effect), Jeff "Joker" Moreau & Male Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard, Karin Chakwas & Male Shepard, Male Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Male Shepard & Greg Adams, Male Shepard & James Vega, Male Shepard & Liara T'Soni, Male Shepard & Samantha Traynor, Past Male Shepard & Original Character(s), Steve Cortez & Male Shepard
Series: A Real Hero [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429021
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	SAM Squared: Origins

The Primarch settled in, the report filed, the board green after EDI decided she was going to install herself into a body without telling anyone, Samed fell face-first onto the bed in his cabin. 

An hour passed. No sleep—something wasn’t right. His muscles were sort of too tight. Maybe a shower, then?

He got up, turned the faucet all the way and relaxing hot water poured on his face and body. And—nothing. His muscles were still a rope sprung up too tight.

He left the bathroom in a towel around his waist, changed into a tank top and some clean boxers and properly got into bed this time—covers and all.

His gaze fixed on the stars above him. Thousands of tiny dots, each one a star thousands of kilometers away. He closed his eyes. _He and Tracy lay on the grass, school’s out, making up constellations as chill music plays from the boombox. Talking about how they’ll visit all of them when they’re older—_ only one of them did. And Mindoir turned out to be better than all of them. Trace didn't have the chance to find that out.

Had Mindoir gotten hit by Reapers? Samed’s eyes shot open. Was his house still there, did the locks still hold? Ever since he—died—he hadn’t kept in contact with any of the neighbors. Did Ghassan remarry? Were Orna’s grandkids doing alright? The tightness in his muscles shifted to his chest and he sat up.

He took a good look at the cabin. The aquarium, the lounge, all the exposed wiring. And the ships rack that stood out like a sore thumb, empty.

Maybe that would make it better—putting the ships that were missing back. He grabbed one of the boxes from behind the bed frame and opened it. And couldn't help but shake his head at the irony—the Normandy SR1, partially disassembled.

He sat in one of the lounge chairs and began: first the back. A small version of the rear access ramp was in his hand and those memories of him, Ash and Liara drinking sprung to mind. Then Alchera: _Samed takes Ash’s old assault rifle from whatever’s left of her crushed, snow-covered locker. “You owe me some whiskey talk, Chief. Guess it didn’t work out after all.” A piece of the hull splits off and crashes behind him as soon as he says that._ With a fraction of a smile on his lips, Samed pressed the rear access ramp to the tiny Normandy with a click in response.

Next came the wings, one which stood next to the tiny version of the captain's cabin. _Alenko doing some maintenance next to his cabin right before lights out, flashes that white smile of his and a "Goodnight, Commander. Just taking care of some things before I hit the hay."_

Samed sighed and pressed the wing in. _"Glad I bumped into you, Kaidan."_ _A strange sparkle lights up those amber eyes of his and a smile draws on those wide lips as he says, "Yeah. Me too."_

Chakwas told him Kaidan’s condition was stable—that was about two weeks ago. He should be awake by now. _"I just wanna know, is the man I followed to hell and back. The man I—are you still in there? Somewhere?"_

Samed turned his gaze to his terminal—no blinking light. _"You were always stubborn." Kaidan lets out a gravelly chortle and bites his lip. A flutter flies through his stomach, up his chest, and he smiles back. Almost like old times._

Thinking about this was pointless.

The last piece of the old Normandy clicked and Samed’s stomach grumbled, a gnawing ache following it. Maybe that was it, he hadn’t eaten since…since Menae, an enertab while they were looking for Victus. 

He left the tiny version of the Normandy on his desk, put on a pair of pants and headed to the mess. 

He opened the fridge and—crying. Someone was crying, somewhere around the sleeping pod hall. He carefully closed the fridge door and after several silent steps, Samed noticed a faint omni-tool light amidst the darkness—a video being played and replayed of a man and a woman. Some kind of vidcall, or recording of it. A few more steps and he saw a dark head of hair opposite that omni display, Comm Specialist Traynor.

Samed forced a cough to make his presence known and Traynor flinched and turned off her omni.

"Commander!" She got up and wiped her cheeks. "I. I was just."

"That's your family."

"I. Yes. Sir."

Glassy eyes met his, like those he saw every night in the mirror during his first years of college. There was no question about it—Samed pulled Traynor into a hug and she started to tremble in his arms.

Next thing he knew he was making her tea while two of his meal rations heated in the microwave at the same time. Specialist and Commander sat opposite one another in the mess; Traynor with her tea and Samed chowing down two MRE waffles in only minutes.

"You might want to slow down? I got hiccups once from eating too fast, couldn't get rid of them for a full day."

Samed swallowed a bite. "I haven't eaten in two days, Traynor."

She raised her brows. "Why?"

"I forgot to eat."

"Oh, um. Understandable, with everything that has been going on lately."

Samed breathed in and out, his stomach not used to that much food all at once. "Okay. Maybe you're—" A hiccup interrupted him. "—right."

Traynor started to giggle as his stomach protested with another hiccup. Maybe one meal ration was enough. 

"Here, have some of my tea," Traynor said.

"No," he hiccuped again. "I'll ju—ust get myself," he said and stood up with another hiccup. "A glass of wa—ater." He poured himself a glass and drank it in one breath. "Okay. That did the trick."

He sat back opposite Traynor as she took a sip of her tea. “So. Are your parents safe?”

“Um, yes actually. They called me right before lights out. They’d made it safe and sound onto the Citadel.”

“So? Why the crying, Traynor?”

“This might sound silly but. I guess was feeling a bit homesick? The last time I came home to visit them was about four months ago. And now, after everything that—” Traynor sighed with a tremble in her breath.

There was that glassy film over her eyes again, and—

“Do you like building model ships, Specialist?” Samed asked and Traynor raised her brows over wide eyes.

“Um, what?”

“Building model ships. I was in the middle of that before I got hungry. Wanna join?”

“Is this is some kind of euphemism, Commander? Because I am afraid I don’t swing your way. Besides, there are regulations and—”

“It’s not a euphemism, Traynor. Just ships, I promise. And I don’t swing your way either.”

*****

“So, you _were_ only talking about ships after all.”

Traynor held a miniature version of an Alliance shuttle as Samed was busy with the Destiny Ascension and its many identically curvy parts.

“Told you.”

“You could’ve phrased it better.”

“How? And what's 'building model ships' even a euphemism of?”

“Well, there are tiny pieces you insert in tiny—no. This is too weird.”

Samed chortled. Traynor did seem like she was relaxing and having a good time, so it was all good.

"So, not to be a comm specialist in your bedroom—" Their gazes met, both of their faces twisted with a grimace.

“And I’m the one phrasing things badly."

“I know I know! That sounded awfully wrong, but. You seem to have received a message? Your terminal is blinking."

Samed widened his eyes and immediately sprung up his omni. Then sighed. Just an automated birthday message from the Alliance. With all the commotion he'd forgotten it even was his birthday. Not that he celebrated it anyways. Sixteen years later and there was still a knot in his chest every year on this day. He turned off the display and continued working on the Ascension.

"What was all that about? Waiting for a message from a certain someone?"

"It's not important."

"He is awaiting a message from Major Kaidan Alenko."

"EDI!” Samed looked up at the comm speaker. “How do you even know that?"

"Ohhhh Major Alenko! He is…conventionally attractive." Traynor sagely nodded to herself. "I think."

Samed raised a brow. "Conventionally attractive?"

"Well I am not the right person to comment on these things, soooo...is there something going on between you two?" She grinned from ear to ear.

Before he could answer, "Shepard and Major Kaidan Alenko—then Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko—went to a bar on the Citadel after defeating Saren which Jeff referred to as 'a date.'"

"Oooh!"

"Joker? How the hell does he know?"

"Major Kaidan Alenko—then Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko—told him."

"Oooooh!"

"Kaidan told him it was a date?"

"Jeff did not specify. From what I extrapolated from the intonation in his voice, I believe the phrasing was bias on Jeff's part."

Samed shook his head. "EDI. Why are you even here?"

"I do not get adequate stimulus during 'night time', while the whole crew is asleep."

"So." Samantha turned her head upwards. "You were bored and felt like gossiping?"

After a pause which felt oddly deliberate and dramatic, EDI answered, "Yes."

"Fascinating." Traynor then scooted closer and whispered, "Hey, can EDI come over too?"

"That is unnecessary, Traynor. I prefer to just watch."

“Guess we’re not the only ones with phrasing issues in this room.”

Samed smiled to himself, shook his head and continued with the Ascension. Traynor finished with the Alliance shuttle and grabbed a turian cruiser that gave her a harder time with all of its edges.

Something was missing, however. "Hey, what kind of music do you like?"

"Um. Pop mostly?"

"What about desert rock? Or soul? Or anything with bass guitars?"

"Ummm not really? Although, an ex of mine introduced me to this thing called ambient post-rock?"

"Does it have any bass guitars in it?"

"I think so? Here, let me—” Traynor flicked her omni. “Hold on." Soothing spacey sounds started playing from the speakers. "What do you think?"

Samed fixed his gaze on a blank spot in the ceiling as the song went on. It did have that sort of bass guitar sound he really liked but turned softer and passed through lots of electronic filters—just like he and Tracy used to do instead of actually practicing. 

Samed nodded. "I like it. Perfect for keeping your fingers busy."

"Ha! You can say that again!" Traynor "fired" a shot with her index finger.

Samed shook his head and just focused his gaze at Traynor for a moment.

_Tracy and him are walking home from school, promising they'll actually practice this time—just end up doing nothing and listening to some chill music instead. Samed works on a scrap skycar engine as Trace absentmindedly strums some chords on his guitar._

"You're okay, Traynor."

"Uh, thanks? You too, Commander."

"You can just call me Samed."

"Oh, well Samantha, then, to you. Or Sam. Oh, but please don’t call me Sammy. Vega calls me that—ooh!” With a bounce on the sofa, and her mouth in a grin, Sam turned to him. “We're both Sams!"

"No, I'm Samed. Sah-med. There's a difference."

"I know, but—oh never mind."

"What?"

"Sam Squared! Like some kind of superhero duo!"

"But I'm not Sam!"

"Then, Es-Ay-Em, all caps, parentheses, squared?"

"Like surface-to-air missiles?"

Sam raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and nodded. "It fits, oddly enough. That could be our superpower!"

Samed put his index finger on his lips. “This sounds like a WWE gimmick. Oh, or like a team in BattleBots—I deploy the missles, you provide precision targeting."

“So are we the superheroes or do we just have robots?”

“Specialist." Samed narrowed his eyes and smirked. "We are the robots.”

Sam’s eyes shot wide, her mouth curved and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

What followed was an inordinate amount of time talking about their respective superhero costumes and names while they reassembled Samed’s model ships. The clock turned four and yawns started to interrupt their sentences, and with most of the ships done, Sam and Samed parted ways with a fist bump.

Samed fell face-first onto the bed again. His muscles relaxed and his stomach full, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Samed paced through the war room and sipped the now-cold coffee he had made in the afternoon.

The Dalatrass had sent a formal letter of response that she would attend the summit. The Primarch was constantly uploading relevant war data. Dozens of news from Earth, all of them depressing. Mindoir hadn't been hit by Reapers yet, but everyone had already been evacuated—that was good.

No message yet from the Major.

He refreshed his omni again and a message popped up—from Sam.

> _Come meet me in the cargo bay. (SAM)²_

Well it wasn’t the Major, but those parentheses made Samed chuckle nonetheless.

He drank the rest of his coffee, made a stop for the mess to rinse out the mug and pressed the button for deck five.

The elevator door opened and a loud "SURPRISE!" blasted through Samed's ears, followed by a "Happy Birthday!"

The first thing he noticed was the rainbow bunting that extended all the way from Vega’s pull-up bar to the UT-47A’s hull where it was attached with duct tape. Then there was the fact that everyone had green party hats on. Sam grinned from ear to ear and so did Vega next to her, Cortez had that lukewarm smile about him, Garrus kept readjusting the hat on his head, Adams and Chakwas stood with drinks in hand and next to them Joker and EDI with her new body.

Liara was the first to step forward and give him a hug as he stood motionless, that knot in his chest getting tighter and tighter. “Happy birthday, Shepard.”

“Was this your idea, Liara?”

“No, actually. Mine.” Sam walked up to him with a bounce to her step and hugged him too.

“How did you know?”

“You seem to have forgotten that I flag your messages? There was one marked read and labeled ‘The SA wishes you a Happy Birthday, soldier’ so I asked EDI for confirmation and then Liara, and voila!”

“Hey Loco! Happy birthday, man. Can’t wait for you to see the cake.”

“Wait. Cake? How did you manage to find a cake?”

“Made it.”

“Made it?”

“Yeah, we had extra waffles so I used that. You’ll see. Not my abuela’s recipe, but it did the job alright.”

“Shepard!” Garrus tapped him on the shoulder. “So, thirty-two eh? I’d say you look good for your age, but then again, you were dead for two years. Shouldn’t you be thirty?”

Samed chuckled and for a moment, it seemed like the knot in his chest started to loosen up a bit.

“Hey birthday boy!” Joker limped forward and gave him his trademark two-taps-on-the-back hug. “Why haven’t we celebrated your day before? Or wait. Was I just not invited?”

“Didn’t feel like celebrating before.” Samed forced a smile and for some reason that knot in his chest untangled even further. “Don’t worry Joker. You’re always invited to my parties.”

“I sure hope so! Here I am, your pilot for three years and I haven’t even gotten a cake slice.” Joker shook his head and started walking to what looked like a drinks table. Sam really had thought of everything.

“Happy birthday, Shepard.” EDI awkwardly put her arms around him in a loose hug. “Birthday customs dictate that the guests bring a present to the person celebrating it.”

“You got me a gift?”

“Yes.”

“EDI. You shouldn’t have.”

“Using relevant data, I have determined the perfect gift. A scale model of the Citadel for the collection of model ships in your cabin. Lieutenant Steve Cortez helped procure it from the extranet. It should arrive in three to seven work days.”

The knot unravelled even further. A party, gifts, all these different people there just for his birthday—it was almost overwhelming. “EDI. I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much.”

“You are welcome, Shepard.”

“Hey Shepard.” Cortez gave him a hug. “Happy birthday.” He pulled away and Samed noticed the dark circles under Cortez’s eyes. Same as those Samed himself used to have after working long nights in the old Normandy.

“Cortez. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just haven’t slept much. Don’t worry about me, Commander.”

“I won’t get upset if you leave this party to get some shuteye, Lieutenant.”

“No no, it’s fine. I haven’t been around people much lately, so why not mingle a bit? You know how it is.”

“I do, but if you need some rest, or anything—”

“Thanks for the concern, Commander. But I'm fine. Happy birthday.” Cortez walked off to the drinks table and Samed was left standing alone by the elevator.

Vega approached him again, with two drinks and handed him one. Samed smelled its contents and—his stomach turned inside out. “Is this tequila?”

“Hell yeah! Don't tell me you don't like tequila, Loco!”

“Sorry James. Almost died once from drinking too much one night during basic.”

"Hehe, my man! Let me grab you a beer then." Vega took Samed's cup, poured it in his, then crouched and tossed him a pint can. 

"Why do we even have beer on board? Or tequila?"

"Got some on the Citadel while you were busy with the Council. Figured people could use some loosening up. I sure did."

"Yeah." Samed opened the can with a hiss and took a large swig. The knot in his chest untangled even more. "So. You doing okay, James?"

"I'm still kinda pissed off but—you were right, Commander. We're useless if we don't regroup."

"Commander Shepard." Chakwas walked by with Adams. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday before I headed out."

"Not staying, doctor?"

"No, I am too old for parties, I'm afraid."

"What about you, Adams?"

"Heh, never been able to hold my drinks, Commander. Besides, can't maintain the engine while intoxicated."

"Well, thanks for coming, both of you. Not that I planned to have a party, but—"

"Do save us some cake, would you?" Chakwas turned to Vega. "I was watching you make it young man, that looked delicious!"

"Heh. Thank you ma'am."

"Goodbye, Shepard. I'd tell you to try not to drink too much, but we both know your cybernetic liver can handle it now." 

Chakwas and Adams left.

Vega left too and Samed once again stood by himself, leaning on the elevator hull with his beer in hand. He watched the party unfold, everyone drinking and talking under the rainbow bunting.

_The whole house smells like hazelnuts and sugar as Maama bakes while the loud whirr of the vacuum is heard from every room as Baaba makes sure the house is spotless. "Don't want your friends to think we're not welcoming, 'albi!"_

_Tracy and a few people from school come over and they eat, drink, watch some cheesy movies together and laugh. Everything is good._

Sorrow gripped Samed’s chest and it was like he was looking at the party through glasses that had been wet from rain.

"So, liking the party?" Samed turned to his left and a bit down, and met Sam's gaze. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just—” Samed’s voice broke into a higher pitch and he cleared his throat. “—haven't had a party in sixteen years. I’m not really used to this. But thanks, Sam."

“You’re welcome! Though, now that I think about this, did I…overstep some boundaries, Comm—uh, Samed? Back in the lab we always threw these little get-together parties whenever someone had a birthday. So I thought—”

"It's okay. Just not used to it, I guess. After the Reapers hit—I even forgot it was my birthday."

"That is understandable."

Samed and Sam stood in silence drinking their respective drinks as they leaned with their backs on the elevator hull. Something passed by Samed’s legs and he looked down to see KEI-9 with a little party hat on its head strolling by. He turned to Sam, who looked at him with a grin. Both of them erupted into laughter.

“So Sam. When’s your birthday?”

“Oh, early January."

"Well, if we manage to beat the Reapers by then, expect a birthday party from me."

"Can we get Vega to make the cake again? I watched that man work and he did wonders, I swear."

"Heh, now I really wanna see the cake he made. Just please don't tell me I have to blow out candles. _That_ would be overstepping boundaries."

"Well, Garrus did have the idea of sticking little heatsinks in the cake and lighting them up. Guess we have to scrap that now."

Samed laughed again and the knot in his chest untangled completely, for the first time in sixteen years. "You're alright, Sam."

"You too, Samed. SAM Squared?"

"SAM Squared." They bumped fists.

Samed went back into the crowd for some mingling and—it actually turned out to be a decent night, after all. Eventually Vega brought out the cake made of waffles, crushed protein bars and melted chocolate and everyone got a slice—except for Garrus, who had some dextro-amino chocolate Chakwas had given him, allegedly forwarded from Dr. Michel herself. 

Everything was good.

The party died down around midnight and almost everyone chipped in to clean up: Garrus collected the trash, Sam and Liara wiped the tables clean, Vega and Cortez put the chairs back in their respective places and took down the decorations and Samed mopped the floors.

Finally tired and slightly buzzed from all the beer he drank, Samed opened the door to his cabin and noticed a blinking light coming from his terminal. A flutter scurried through his chest and he practically leapt forward and pressed the mail button.

> _Doc says I'm ready for visitors - kaidan.alenko@..._

Without missing a beat, Samed opened the message, his heart pounding in his ears.

> _Hey Commander,_
> 
> _Through some combination of a medical miracle and dumb luck, it looks like I'll survive what happened on Mars. The doctors say I'm still not ready to be released, but I've gotten the green light for visitors. It'd be good to see you if you can spare the time._

Samed grinned and bit his lip, grabbed a datapad, flicked his omni and transferred the message there. He continued reading as he walked to his bed and sat.

> _Councilor Udina offered to make me a Spectre. Still thinking about whether or not I should accept. Stop by my room at the hospital next time you're on the Citadel. I'd like your advice._
> 
> _Kaidan._
> 
> _P.S. Happy birthday! Or belated birthday, in case this message gets to you a bit late._

Samed hugged the datapad and fell backwards onto the mattress. His gaze fixed on the stars above, thousands of tiny little dots, thousands of tiny little flutters flooding his chest.

For the first time in sixteen years, the eleventh of April turned out to be a good day.


End file.
